


Rest

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Domestic, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: “Ran you a bath,” Crowley murmured. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”“Leave me the Hell alone while I lie in my bath?” Bobby suggested.“No,” Crowley said mildly.





	Rest

Bobby dragged his cap off his head, and he exhaled heavily as he stepped into the house, closing his eyes shut. The sun was beginning to set outside, and his whole damned body was  _aching_ : his shoulders sang out in quiet, creaking pain, and there was the soft, twanging pain in his palms of a rough job hard done. It was Sunday tomorrow. A day of rest, he decided, although he knew it wouldn’t be one - hunters’d be calling, the phone’d be off the hook, someone would come in…

But. But if it  _was_  quiet… A day of rest. 

He kicked the door shut behind him, and said, “Come on, then.”

“You know, you don’t need to sound so  _put upon_. What, I’m some kind of chore?”

“Yeah,” Bobby said, and Crowley flickered into existence in front of him, setting his hands on Bobby’s hips and pressing his fingers into the flesh there, feeling it give under the soft, worn flannel of his shirt. He was smirking, in a distantly smug sort of way, and Bobby let his head lean forward, his eyes closing shut.

Crowley’s forehead was cooler than Bobby’s own, cool and dry and comfortable, and Bobby felt their foreheads brush against one another, their noses too as Crowley shifted his head slightly from side to side, rubbing tip to tip. 

“Ran you a bath,” Crowley murmured. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”

“Leave me the Hell alone while I lie in my bath?” Bobby suggested.

“ _No_ ,” Crowley said mildly. “I’m going to  _minister_  to you. Like I’m your consort.”

“I’d prefer the other thing.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Crowley said, and he leaned in closer, turning his head so that he could press his lips against Bobby’s, and Bobby kissed him back, sliding a hand into Crowley’s short, cropped hair and dragging him closer. 

“Christ’s sake, Crowley, I’m  _tired,”_ Bobby muttered when they broke apart. Crowley’s expression was unreadable as he leaned back, cupping Bobby’s jaw, his thumb playing through the bristles of his beard.

“I know,” Crowley said quietly, and then he arched his eyebrows. “I know. And that’s why, Robert, I’m going to stop you from so much as lifting a finger. Scrub your back, wash your hair for you, bring you a nice Bacardi and coke–”

“I can’t have a real drink?”

“You mean your cheap American beer? No, darling, you cannot.”

“I don’t want to drink goddamn  _Bacardi_ –”

“Drink wine then.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Bobby groaned, and he fell further forward, his head landing on Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley kissed his ear. “Whiskey?”

“Oh,  _whiskey_ ,” Crowley purred, his hands sliding back further, squeezing Bobby’s ass and making a burst of inviting heat curl in the base of his stomach, although not one he was gonna chase after just yet. “A whiskey, Robert, I think I could manage that.”

“Foot massage?” Bobby asked, after a significant pause. 

“ _Mmm_ , I think I could manage that,” Crowley murmured against his ear. 

“Sandwich?”

“I think a sandwich is within my capabilities, yes.”

“Bacon?”

“Doable.”

“In a grilled cheese?”

“Oh, now you  _do_  test my skillset… Yes, Robert, I think I can make you a cheese and bacon toastie.” 

Bobby felt himself smile, just slightly, and Crowley cupped his cheeks, kissing him on the mouth again. “You look tired,” he said quietly. “Will the world end if you take a holiday?”

“Probably,” Bobby said.

Crowley mused on this for a second. “Yeah,” he said. “Probably. Let me take you anyway.”

“Bath first,” Bobby muttered, and not for the first time, he wondered exactly how he got here, and then pushed the difficult idea aside for more comfortable thoughts. 

“Alright,” Crowley murmured, kissing his knuckles. “And then I’ll ride you like a stallion.”

“Burro, maybe,” Bobby muttered, and Crowley laughed as he led him toward the stairs.  


End file.
